Max perked up. “The archbishop has rejected the petition?”
“No, he has confirmed that he is willing to grant it, but it says that he requires both of your signatures,” Dickie replied, pulling a face. “I do not see why. How can it be that a woman sometimes has little to no say in who she marries, but her say-so is required in order to terminate a marriage?”
Max swiped the letter back, his mind in twice the turmoil it had been before. He did not consider himself to be a cowardly man, but he had hoped that he would not have to see Caroline in order to proceed. In truth, hecouldnot see Caroline if the annulment had any chance of proceeding; he would lose his resolve altogether.
“I can take it if you want?” Dickie said, evidently seeing the hesitation on Max’s face. “She will not be pleased to see me, but as she has agreed to this, I doubt she will kick me out too soundly.”
Max folded up the letter and slipped it into his waistcoat pocket. “Why would she kick you out? Indeed, I probably should give you the townhouse as a wedding gift.”
“What?” Dickie frowned.
“What?” Max echoed.
Dickie squeezed his eyes shut and smacked himself on the forehead. “I did not tell you, did I?”
“Tell me what?”
“I knew there was something I was forgetting.” Dickie cracked one eye open. “Caroline has agreed to the annulment, that is true, but she has not agreed to marry me in your stead. I happened to see Ellen yesterday, walking in Hyde Park, and she passed on the unexpected news. I had hoped to talk to Caroline about it in due course, to make her see sense, but I got somewhat distracted, and… goodness, I am hopeless at this. I shall speak with her now when I deliver those papers to her to be signed. By luncheon, she will have given her consent; I promise you.”
Max was up on his feet in an instant, the annulment papers burning a hole through his chest. He stared down at his startledbrother as a maelstrom of emotions swirled through his foggy brain: disbelief, relief, hope, uncertainty, and everything in between.
“Are you certain of this news?” Max rasped.
Dickie nodded. “Quite certain. Ellen was most distressed by it. She believes her friend is going to have to retreat to a nunnery or to the Continent in order to survive the shame and, of course, she is worried about how all of this might affect Phoebe and the children. Amelia and Daniel, too.”
“But why agree to the annulment at all if she has no intention of marrying you?” Max’s chest squeezed tight, his heart racing so fast he feared it might burst from his chest.
Dickie shrugged. “Who knows why women do what they do? I suppose she thought the only way togetthe annulment was to pretend that she would marry me instead. You know, so it could be used in the petition. Truly, I was as shocked as you when I heard.”
“If you will excuse me,” Max said, already heading for the door. “I must get to the bottom of this.”
He did not dare to hope that she might still want him, but Caroline had married once in order to save her reputation and to spare her family from heartache and shame. If she was now refusing, there had to be a good reason.
Does she think this is what I want?His mind raced.Is that why she agreed, for my sake?
He did not bother to wait for the carriage or even to saddle a horse as he bounded down the porch steps of the apartments and took off down the road at a sprint. He knew the way back to Mayfair as well as he knew the golden flecks in Caroline’s eyes, and he could not waste a moment.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Caroline stared up at the drawing room ceiling from the floor, the fire crackling in the grate beside her to fend off the morning chill. Powder Puff lay curled up on her chest, but the poor cat had not been herself for several days, prowling and pacing the entrance hall and refusing to eat. Caroline knew how the cat felt—she, too, had been waiting for Max to come back. But, unlike Powder Puff, she knew that he was not going to.
“It will just be me and you,” she whispered, absently scratching between the cat’s ears. “At Westyork, I suspect, to keep Mama company. That will not be so terrible, will it?”
The cat slept on, and Caroline wondered if heartbreak had turned her toward madness. Talking to herself surely had to be a bad sign.
Just then, a knock came at the door.
“I really am sorry, Mrs. Whitlock, but I still am in no mood for breakfast,” Caroline replied. “Apologize to the cook for me.”
“You will upset her if you do not eat what she prepares for you,” came a low, husky voice that did not belong to Mrs. Whitlock at all.
Caroline shot up into a sitting position, disturbing Powder Puff as she did. The cat chirruped in annoyance, the sound of displeasure transforming into a hearty purr as the white feline darted toward the legs of the man who had just entered. She weaved herself in and out of Max’s ankles, bumping her soft head against his calves, mewling with happiness all the while.
I wish that I could welcome him like that,Caroline lamented, hurriedly attempting to school her face into a blank expression.
He looked so very handsome, his cravat loose, his waistcoat open, his shirt unbuttoned to reveal a triangle of sun-browned skin. Caroline would have given anything to be able to run into his arms at that moment, even if it could not change the annulment that was surely coming. She just wanted to be held again, so she could remember the feeling.
“I have not had much of an appetite of late,” she said stiffly, lurching to her feet. All of a sudden, her legs felt unsteady.
